


water rose

by englishsummerrain



Series: kinktober 2020 [5]
Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Royalty, Aphrodisiacs, Breeding, Cock Warming, Come Eating, Double Penetration, Gangbang, M/M, Multiple Orgasms, Praise Kink, Renjun Harem, strange sex rituals we won't look at too closely
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-19
Updated: 2020-10-19
Packaged: 2021-03-09 00:01:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,964
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27035362
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/englishsummerrain/pseuds/englishsummerrain
Summary: For Renjun, spring is the time to surrender to passion.
Relationships: Huang Ren Jun/Everyone, Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan, Huang Ren Jun/Lee Donghyuck | Haechan/Lee Jeno/Na Jaemin/Zhong Chen Le, Huang Ren Jun/Lee Jeno, Huang Ren Jun/Na Jaemin, Huang Ren Jun/Zhong Chen Le
Series: kinktober 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1945297
Comments: 23
Kudos: 219





	water rose

**Author's Note:**

> kinktober day 15: breeding (and a lot of other days, whatever)
> 
> [slaps renjun's ass] this bad boy can fit SO MUCH cum inside of it
> 
> thank u bon for cheerleading me.. u r the sweetest angel in the world and ilu!! thank u kelly too <3

Renjun sighs and props his chin up on his hands, elbows resting on the cool stone of the balcony. The breeze is soft and warm and dozens of tiny red boats cruise across the surface of the lake, lanterns hanging on their bow like fireflies in the warm night. The moon is huge and thick and it almost seems like daylight has come again — the flowers hanging heavy off the awnings and great effigies built for the spring festival plated in silver, every wave on the lake glittering with precious metal.

It’s a beautiful view, but it’s not his tonight. Behind him the room glows with a thousand candles, and across the floor is spread enough cushioning to sleep half the court — crimson silk and gold thread, phoenixes emerging from the ashes, tigers and dragons, tapestries thick, every form of the Earth’s bounty held in the candlesticks adorning the dressers and the statues that guard the heavy wooden door that leads to the ceremonial chambers. 

The spring festival means many things. The first coming of the blossoms. The end of the frost and the snow melting in the high mountains, the glacial water trickling down to the palace grounds, the birds returning to the trees and the bears reawakening. Renjun’s mother had always told him that the turn of the seasons was when the dragon who slept at the bottom of the lake stirred — when he breathed fire through the earth and made the springs warm again. That one year he might never wake, and the earth would still and freeze over.

He’s not sure what that has to do with the Ritual of Calamity, but as a child he’d always been afraid of the dragon rising up and eating the palace instead. 

Spring, now that he’s older — now that he’s grown into his place in life — spring is a season of celebration. Of the people and things he loves. A time to be smothered in love — to surrender to passion. Once a calamity had struck the land and drove it’s fist through the kingdom. Once hatred had taken over, the mountains weeping fire, the sky turning black. It’s Renjun’s duty to appease the spirits — the demons that might bring that hatred back. To show them love still exists. 

He stands, sleeves of his robe falling over his hands as he gets to his feet and climbs down from the viewing platform above the dais his bed is set on. His bare feet never touch the ground — every centimeter is covered in rugs, laid on top of each other like steam on the surface of the hot springs. He cannot touch the earth until the ritual is complete — all his lovers must be clean, too. No speck of dirt must touch his skin. 

He passes through the ornate doorway, trailing his fingers along the surface of the veil that parts before him like morning mist. Before him the water gardens unfold — the thousands of lanterns, most secured, some floating towards the heavens. Spirits being released, all those who were once lost returning home. They won’t set off the fireworks tonight, but even so it’s a pretty light show — the paper of the lanterns is every colour possible, pinks and blues and oranges mixed together in a gunpowder spectacle, symbols painted onto their sides only a blur from the distance Renjun is at. This part of the palace is almost level with the lake — high enough that the flood waters won’t reach it, but low enough that if Renjun so wanted to he could shrug off his robe and dive into the water with ease. 

And he’s wanted to. He’s done it before — one summer afternoon, taking a lover or two with him. Jeno and Chenle hitting the water like stones into a pond, their naked skin gleaming in the sunlight as they surfaced beside him, hair plastered to their heads, both of them grinning wildly. At this side of the lake it’s private — there’s no access from the lower levels, and it’s easy to swim for hours alone, basking on the shores or walking over to the upper level of the hot springs if they so chose to. If Renjun were sensible he’d simply walk across the boardwalk to get there, but he figures he’s going to get wet anyway — better to have fun. Better to lead Jeno with him. Better to kiss him, run his fingers over his naked skin. Chenle watching them with dark eyes, and the sunlight hazy above them.

The memory fades, broken by a knock on the door. Renjun glances up from watching the lanterns dance on the surface of the lake and turns toward it, resting his elbows on the railing and leaning back.

“Come in,” he says.

The door opens without a sound, gliding on the gilded hinges to reveal Jaemin, dressed simply in an open fronted robe of deep navy blue, his top and skirt both midnight black and embroidered with smoke-like patterns of silver. His hair is loose and hanging around his shoulders and he bows slightly as they meet eyes, flashing his teeth in a brilliant smile and setting down the tray he’s carrying. It’s piled with jars and incense, and he takes a handful of sticks and tips their ends into a candle to light them, then rests them inside a jade censer, a soft trail of smoke rising into the air as he crosses the room to meet Renjun on the balcony. 

“Am I the first to arrive?” he asks, leaning against the railing beside him, throwing his robe back and baring a thin strip of his chest as the buttons strain to hold his shirt closed.

“You already know the answer to that,” Renjun says. Jaemin turns to him with a smirk.

“Of course, my dear,” he says. The lanterns in the sky glitter in his eyes. “I just wanted you to confirm that I am clearly the one who cares the most about you.”

“You and I both know Chenle and Donghyuck are overseeing the flower weaving. Jeno is wherever the wind takes him, but you're always habitually early, anyway. Less that you care, more that you’re annoying.”

He reaches out to pick loose a thread from Jaemin’s shoulder, then sighs, flicking it over the edge.

“Am I really?” Jaemin asks. He’s still smiling — eyes still twinkling. His hand slides up to cup Renjun’s cheek and Renjun rolls his eyes — though he doesn’t pull away.

“Yes. I often consider kicking you out onto the streets, or sending you back to whichever gate of hell you crawled out of.” 

Jaemin laughs, but the harsh words don’t deter him. They never have. If anything Renjun suspects Jaemin likes it — like it’s all a game to him to chase after Renjun like this.

Jaemin is his most recent lover — though Renjun wishes he’d known him earlier. He was a courtesan from the far south, bright eyed with a wicked smile. From first sight Renjun had felt his draw, as if Jaemin had hooked a finger under his chin and pulled him closer, inviting him into his world. Beautiful, lines of his body clad in silks of deep pink and gold, flashes of skin where he walked, the rattle of precious metal, perfume and oil pressed into his soft skin. He moved like a snake, sensuous as smoke on the water’s surface, and Renjun had known that he’d had to have him. 

“I’d like to see you try it,” Jaemin murmurs, face so close to Renjun’s he can count the gold flakes adorning his cheekbones. A mark all his lovers would wear tonight — a gift of the earth, something to bring them luck as they bred their prince.

“You’d fight me,” Renjun says. Jaemin’s breath is hot against his lips. “Tooth and nail. All your fangs and claws.”

“And who’s to say you wouldn’t like that?” 

“You wouldn’t harm the crown prince, would you?”

Jaemin chuckles, thumb running along Renjun’s cheekbone, his other hand slipping under his robe to lay flat against his heart, the warmth of his skin palpable even through his undergarments. “Only if he asked me to.”

Renjun sighs as their lips meet, breathing deep and letting it out as he savours the feeling of the kiss. It’s been a while since he’s seen Jaemin — too long, maybe. There’s a fire in him that no-one else can quite match — some kind of divine grace. He kisses him with a hunger, a brewing anticipation of the night's events. It’s his second spring with Renjun, and the first is always nervous, but the second is like wildfire. Renjun's looking forward to it — to seeing how Jaemin might stake his claim. He's such a show off, always slithering around Renjun even when he's with someone else, so desperate to be noticed.

And now he's here in the ritual chamber, the first of his lovers to arrive. The first to drink Renjun in, to feel his heartbeat beneath his hand. He smells good — something rich and resinous, mixing with the incense smoke floating through the air, the crisp wetness of the lake water lapping at the foundation of the palace.

Another knock on the door. Renjun pulls away from Jaemin, pressing a peck to his lips and dropping his hand from his face before he calls whoever it is to come in.

It's Chenle and Donghyuck. One after the other, flower petals in their hair, gold on their skin. Donghyuck is dressed in burning red, and Chenle in a soft pink — a different shade for every year they've been with him. Donghyuck is his longest lover, of course — an inevitability. In six months' time it will have been twelve years since they met, and they'll be celebrating their tenth year of joining. He's his oldest and best friend, what in another circumstance Renjun might think of as a soulmate. He doesn't play favourites, though. He loves all of them all the same. Donghyuck is just special, in some strange way.

"Typical," Chenle says, when he catches sight of Jaemin and Renjun together.

Renjun shrugs off Jaemin's touch and pushes himself away from the railing. "He just got here," Renjun says. "Relax. I knew you were busy with the festival."

"Busy," Donghyuck echoes, then laughs. "If you call busy Chenle falling into the flower barrel, sure."

"I dropped my brooch," Chenle says. "The one you gave me, Renjun. I wasn't going to lose it."

"I'm honoured you'd risk suffocation by flowers for a piece of jewelry," Renjun says. He takes the tray Chenle is carrying from him, briefly inspecting the pitchers and then setting it down on the dresser beside the one Jaemin had brought in.

"It was the brooch you gave me for our five years."

Renjun makes a humming noise, running his finger around the rim of a pitcher engraved with a crane. He knows the brooch — a circular piece of pale jade with a single malachite inlay. A customary gift, but one Renjun had selected carefully. Chenle wore the most jewellry of all of them, even more than Jaemin — who sported pierced ears and nipples, numerous rings of bone and turquoise, and a piercing on his belly button. For Chenle every piece he wore was carefully chosen, and Renjun had made sure the jewelers had adapted that. Most of them knew him, and they knew his style. The brooch was special. It was personal. A symbol of Renjun's love and the bond they had.

Chenle is his second longest lover — coming up eight years in the winter. He'd been a scribe in the years before he'd joined the court, and most of the time Renjun still found him in the library, basking in the sun with a pot of ink beside him. He was an archer, too — same as Jeno — and the two of them would often practice together, beautiful lines of their bodies poised perfectly as they traded shots and quips.

Today he is dressed simply — the same as Jaemin and Donghyuck. Open fronted robe over a sheer shirt and knee length skirt, the only ornament on his person the embroidering on his sleeves. He kisses Renjun when he turns back to him, and he tastes sweet, some kind of winter fruit — no doubt picked straight from the vine — sticky on his lips.

"I missed you," he says, as Renjun pulls back, pressing a kiss to his cheek, then his jaw, nosing along his neck and breathing his scent in, biting lightly at the sensitive spot under his ear.

"It's only been a day," Renjun murmurs. Donghyuck's hand slides along his waist, and he allows it to linger, careless. The ritual won't begin until Jeno arrives — carrying the last part of the tea they'll all ingest — but there has never been a rule against him enjoying himself.

"Isn't that enough?"

"What's gotten into you?" Renjun asks, laughing, kissing down his neck again. Donghyuck's hand is worming its way under his robe and Chenle has thrown his head back, giving him full access to the expanse of his throat. He presses his tongue against his Adam's apple, enjoying the hitch in Chenle's breath, dropping a hand to undo one of the ties at the front of his shirt.

"Nothing."

Renjun doesn't believe it — not in the slightest. Chenle is the least sentimental of them by a mile — he prefers to speak with actions instead of words, with his hands in Renjun's hair and his mouth on his skin, not with something as plain as admission of what he means to him.

Then again, there's always something about this night that changes them all. Like a shift in the lunar balance, like the tides have reversed. Some kind of cosmic flare, joining them all together again, opening up their hearts and laying them bare.

"Do you know where our beautiful Jeno is?" Renjun asks. He can hear the tinkle of the censer behind him — Jaemin, no doubt checking the incense, no doubt lighting the last of the candles. Preparing the floor for the ritual to come.

"He's coming," Donghyuck answers. Renjun reaches up, pressing a finger at the seam of Chenle's lips and allowing him to suck it into his mouth, his lips soft as they close around it. A low moan resonates through him and Renjun sucks at the pale skin of his neck, working his teeth into him until he's sure he's left a mark.

"Before Chenle, hopefully," Jaemin says. Donghyuck snickers, fingers pressed against the skin of Renjun's stomach, resting at the waistband of his undergarments.

"Don't be rude," Renjun says. "I'll get to you, Jaemin."

By the time Jeno arrives the four of them are sitting on the cushions together, Renjun spread out like he's on the throne in court. His robe is undone and his chest is shiny with Donghyuck's spit, gold flake smeared across his collarbones. Jaemin is sitting to his left, and Chenle to his right, and he's been alternating kisses with the two of them — Jaemin kissing softly, swiping his tongue across his lips and cupping his cheek with his hand, Chenle kissing with a burning hunger, so rough that when they seperate with a wet noise there's spit glistening on his lips and a dark flame in his eyes.

"Took you long enough," Donghyuck says, looking up from where he was watching Renjun, a small smile playing at his lips.

"They hadn't prepared the nectar," Jeno says, holding up the small pitcher in his hand. "I had to help them grind and boil it."

Chenle nudges at his cheek and Renjun turns to give him another peck on the lips, a squeak bubbling up in him as Chenle immediately deepens it, pushing his tongue into his mouth and drawing a sharp breath from him. The ball of his tongue piercing is cool where it rubs against Renjun’s tongue, and Renjun moans, his entire body arching towards Chenle.

"Stop being greedy Chenle," Donghyuck says.

They seperate — again, wet, dirty, Renjun wiping the spit from his mouth as lust coils in his gut.

"Not greedy," Chenle says. "Just curious."

Jaemin takes the pitcher from Jeno and bows to him, gesturing towards the circle set up in the middle of the room. There's a low, round table in the center of the pillows, and on it Jaemin has begun to set up the tea cups and kettle.

"Here," he says, gesturing Jeno over. "Help me set up."

Chenle kisses down his jawline, hands greedily roaming over his chest as Donghyuck does the same on the other side of him, Renjun relaxing and melting into the cushions, happy to watch everyone else do the work for him. One of the plus sides of his role in this ritual — it's basically his job to sit back and relax. To be pampered, to be loved. Chenle's hand sliding down his chest, resting on his stomach, playing with the belt keeping his shirt closed. Donghyuck nipping at his skin, sucking marks into his neck.

It's hard for Renjun to extract himself from the cushions when he's called over — Donghyuck and Chenle leave easily, but he's warm and aroused and his limbs feel like jelly, and he doesn't want to move. He wants to stay put, to enjoy the moment, to let it all wash over him.

"Get up," Chenle says, poking him with his toes. "Or I'll get Jeno to carry you."

Jeno laughs, eyes turning into crescents as he smiles at Renjun. "Maybe not," he says. "But come on. We shouldn't wait too long."

  
  
  
  
  


The teapot set in the centre of the table faces towards Renjun. Around it, as they are, are five cups, each of them made from plain porcelain, their only marks a fringe of gold around the rim, the same flake that adorns each of his lovers’ skin. 

“Are we ready?” Renjun asks. The agreement is unanimous, no words passed between them. Just a nod of the head. A deep breath. Chenle’s jewelry glints in the candlelight, and Renjun reaches for the teapot, passing his hand over the open top before placing the lid on firmly. He pours them each a cup in order of seniority — Donghyuck first, Renjun himself last. When he’s finished the teapot is empty — though there’s still enough for the second round in the pitcher. 

He sets it back down on the table and takes a breath. They all move in unison, again. Taking their cups. Cradling them between both their hands. Reaching into the bowl in the centre of the room and taking a pinch of the flaky substance held within. Dropping it into their cup, then another pinch, smeared on their necks. At contact it warms, and Renjun breathes deep, feeling the dragon’s spirit swell within him. 

“To another year of fortune,” he says. 

“Long live,” they repeat. He looks at them — each of them, in turn. Another deep breath. 

“Let us begin.”

It always tastes bad going down. Slightly bitter, then overly sweet. It burns in his throat, sticky and lumpy, but Renjun keeps swallowing. Beside him he can see Donghyuck doing the same, face scrunching up as he tries not to retch.

They swallow it all in one go, Jeno looking particularly green around the gills as he sets his cup back down.

“It never gets better, does it?” he says, and Renjun shakes his head.

“Sometimes I swear they make it worse every year, just to play a joke on me.”

At the other side of the table Jaemin is making a strange face, one eye closed, tongue poking out, hands shaking, though when Renjun makes eye contact with him he stops and flashes him a pained smile. 

They repeat. Jaemin pours them each a cup, and again they all wince. It’s worse the second time, he thinks — the taste from the first still lingers, and his throat is still raw. Still, it all goes down. Drop by drop, pitcher drained, teapot drained, all their cups empty. 

When it’s done Chenle splits the blossom cakes in half and hands them out to everyone, passing a whole one to Renjun then sitting back down on his cushion. He raises his to the air and they all join him, sticky pink nectar in the middle spilling out as they bite into the cakes.

They always taste good. Sweet, buttery, sugary on his lips. Renjun devours his, hoping desperately to wipe the taste of the tea from his mouth and wishing there was more when he’s finished. They’re special, baked only for the ritual, filled with a substance he can only assume plays part in the haze that always befalls them. An enhancer, he thinks — or maybe the catalyst for it all.

As soon as Donghyuck finishes his Renjun steals a kiss from him, pastry flaking all over his fingers. It’s sweet and soft at first, Donghyuck pressing kisses to each of his lips, teeth scraping lightly along the skin — but it all goes downhill from there.

It all devolves. Hands on Renjun. Pushing at his clothes, pressing into his skin. He doesn’t know who’s touching him where, only that everything tastes sweet. His heart hammers in his chest and a warmth simmers up in him, the tea slowly taking effect, blurring the world at the edges. It's like a thousand hands carrying him through the clouds, pure bliss as he drinks in Donghyuck's kisses. Someone undoes the belt of his robe and pushes it off his shoulders, and Donghyuck's tongue is in his mouth, and someone is touching his stomach, pushing his shirt off. Someone else undoes his pants, and Chenle's laughter rings out.

"Stop doing that," he says, though it sounds like it's coming from space. It's always like this at first. They'll all be dizzy, all be giddy. Hands on each other — not always focused on Renjun. Renjun doesn't mind. He knows he's their priority in the end. They're allowed to mess around with each other. God knows he's gone to their chambers sometimes and found them in each other's beds — found Chenle draped over Donghyuck, his face pushed into the pillows. Jeno naked in the hot springs with Jaemin's hand around his cock. Always a sly grin, always an invitation.  _ Won't you join us, our prince? _

Warmth spreads through him as the tea starts to take hold, aided by the hand that wraps around his cock. Someone — Jeno, he recognises him, the shape of his lips, the palm of his hand rubbing at Renjun's nipple — kisses along his neck and Renjun sighs, falling into it. 

“God,” Jaemin says. The words like sparkles, fizzing in his mouth. Donghyuck’s hands cupping his cheek. The hand on his cock is Chenle, smooth metal of his rings cool where his hands stroke at him. “Renjun, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

“One might say divine,” Chenle says, then he laughs — laughs at his own fucking joke. Renjun goes to scold him and instead it comes out of him as a bubbling laugh, his head falling back, his body alight with pleasure.

“Shut up,” Renjun says, still laughing. He opens his eyes and the room is bright — all the colours sharpened somehow, the candle flames sparkling, incense smoke hanging in the air. Music floats across the lake and his laughter turns into a moan as Chenle’s hand is replaced by someone’s mouth — lips pressing kisses along the head of his cock, a pause before they start to lap at him. 

It’s Chenle. He recognises the way he moves. The plump swell of his lips, how tantalising he is. The instinct for Renjun to just snap his hips forward and fuck his gorgeous mouth even though he can’t see it. He reaches down through the tangle of limbs touching him to fist his hand in Chenle’s hair and finds him, moans as he takes him into his mouth. 

It all starts to blur. Donghyuck gives him up to Jaemin, who kisses him with such hunger that once upon a time Renjun would be afraid he’d be devoured. Nails on his biceps, a vicious greed that surges through him. Chenle pulls off him and he feels his warmth leave him — someone else’s mouth replacing it. Tentative kitten licks at him, his thighs being spread wide. It’s an overload of sensation, all their touches hot, and Renjun loves it. Like being submerged in water, except it’s bodies, it’s the silk of their robes trailing across his skin, it’s someone’s fingers smearing oil on the insides of his thighs. Jeno’s mouth on his cock, soft whimpers leaking from his lips. Jaemin tips his head back and kisses down the column of his neck, and someone else lifts his hips up, Jeno letting out a wet moan as they do so.

“Careful,” Donghyuck murmurs. 

“It’s fine,” Chenle says. “If there’s one thing we can always be certain about it’s Jeno’s ability to suck cock.”

A wet kiss, a hissing sigh from Chenle. Fabric slides down his leg — not his own clothes, they’re long discarded — but someone else's. Donghyuck’s skirts, maybe. It’s Donghyuck’s fingers for sure that fall on his legs. Chenle pressing kisses to the insides of his thighs, drawing circles with his tongue as Jaemin rubs at his nipples and nips at him, and Renjun whines, hips snapping up into Jeno’s mouth.

“Fuck,” Jaemin sighs, and Renjun had somehow almost forgotten about him. His presence, his warmth. The slide of his lips across his neck. 

“Fuck what?” Renjun asks, and he almost doesn’t recognise his own voice. It’s rough, gritty. Echoing in his ears. He moans as someone licks at his balls, just as Jeno’s tongue twists around the shaft of his cock. 

“I wish you could see yourself right now,” Donghyuck says. “You’re so fucking stunning.”

The words come at the same time as whoever is between his legs gently sucks at his balls, and he knows it must be Chenle — everyone else is preoccupied. His fingers circle around his hole, thick with oil, and Renjun writhes, hips lifting up again, panting. So close to begging — so close to asking for what he knows must transpire.

“You really are,” Chenle says, pressing kisses around the base of his cock, the trail of his tongue wet and lazy. He sucks one of his balls back into his mouth and spreads him wider and Renjun moans.

“The most beautiful man I’ve ever seen,” Donghyuck says. There’s a clatter of metal, more fabric sliding across his skin. Chenle moves down and Renjun lets out a whine as his fingers are replaced with his tongue, his breath hot against the sensitive skin. He licks at his hole and Renjun shudders, bucking up into Jeno’s mouth, pleasure flooding through him in hot tendrils that wrap around his stomach, pulling him in every direction.

It’s the first time he comes. Hips bucking up, shattering and spilling into Jeno’s mouth. Chenle licking up and down the cleft of his ass, smothered in limbs and kisses, Jaemin murmuring to him how good he is. So beautiful. So gorgeous. All theirs.

There’s no break. Jeno pulls off him and his mouth is replaced by Donghyuck’s, drinking him in even as he softens. Jeno kisses Renjun and he can taste himself on his tongue, and it spurs him on. He’s spent — however briefly — and he still wants more. Chenle spreads him open and licks at him and Renjun feels flames spark back up inside of him, heat corkscrewing from the soft point of his tongue.

Donghyuck sucks at him and Renjun's cock hardens in his mouth — a sight he so desperately wishes he could see. Back when they were younger, only the two of them, they used to spend days in each other's arms. Drinking each other in, memorising the shapes of each other's body. He knows what Donghyuck looks like with him in his mouth, it's seared into his memory. And yet it's never enough.

Not for him. He needs more. More than this. One hand in Donghyuck's hair, the other cupping Jeno's jaw. Opening his body up for them as they run their hands along his bare skin, leaving heat in their touches. 

“More,” Renjun gasps as he and Jeno break apart. Chenle’s face is buried between his thighs, and the sensation is almost too much — it’d be ticklish if it wasn’t so fucking obscene. It draws moans from his throat, and he’s fully hard again, he’s fucking into Donghyuck’s mouth and he desperately needs someone inside him. 

Of course he’d stretched himself out beforehand. It was a fun part of the day — just him, alone, lying in the sunshine, him and his hand and his toys, slipping them inside, fucking himself. He’s never allowed to come — every drop must be given to someone else — but it’s still delectable to be filled up and stretched out anyway. Running his hand along his chest, playing with his nipples as he fucked himself, his cock bouncing and drooling all over his stomach.

"More," he repeats. "Jaemin. Start." 

“Aww, Renjun,” Chenle purrs, in between kitten licks all over his balls. “Am I not good enough for you?”

“I’m not giving you an ego boost,” Renjun says, to which Chenle just chuckles, the sound vibrating through him. He suckles at Renjun’s balls for a second more before he pulls off, the heat of his hands leaving his thighs empty. 

“So unfair,” Chenle coos, even as he shifts to press a kiss to his lips. He and Jaemin swap places, Jaemin dipping his hands into the oil on the table beside them, smearing it across his fingers and pressing gently at Renjun. 

“Go,” Renjun says, pushing back against him. “Go, please.”

The moan when Jaemin slips his fingers inside of him is swallowed by Chenle’s mouth. He trades with Jeno, and Renjun lets himself fall to the spectacle — the two of them pressing kisses to Renjun’s mouth almost as much as they kiss each other. Donghyuck pulls off him and leaves Jaemin to work him open, and then there’s three of them — there’s Chenle and Jeno focusing on each other, falling into the cushions with a giggling laugh, Jeno climbing on top of Chenle and peppering his face with kisses.

Renjun leaves them be. He’s preoccupied, anyway. Jaemin fucks him on his fingers, and Donghyuck sucks at his neck, nuzzling his jawline, murmuring praise into his skin. 

“You’re gonna look so beautiful when we all fill you up, Renjun,” he says. A nip at the column of his throat. Hand spread across his chest. “Dripping with our cum. All full and stretched out.”

Renjun whines, clenching down around Jaemin’s fingers. Of course Donghyuck knows — of course Donghyuck loves this. Back when it was only him he’d always talk about how beautiful Renjun looked — now there’s five of them it’s still the same. More, maybe. 

“How’s our beautiful prince doing?” Jaemin asks. He twists his fingers and withdraws them, running a hand up the seam of his thigh. "You're already all stretched out, Renjun. Did you have fun this afternoon?"

"Yes," Renjun gasps. "I thought of you. All of you."

"Couldn't wait to be fucked, could you?" Donghyuck purrs.

Someone's fingers graze against his wrist and Renjun turns to find Chenle staring at him, fondness sparkling in his dark eyes. The candlelight dances across his skin and the incense smoke curls in the air, and he looks exquisite — all aglow, the boy Renjun fell in love with so many years ago.

"Did you miss us?" Chenle asks.

"Of course," Renjun says, voice husky. "Every minute of every day."

Donghyuck's lips on his neck. Jaemin, hitching his legs up. Circling his fingers around his hole again, slick and warm. Chenle's fingers climb up his hand and he grasps at Renjun's thumb — a gesture that would seem almost delicate were it not accompanied by a wet moan falling from his lips, a reaction to Jeno's hand closing around his cock.

"Fuck," Chenle gasps, neck bared, body arching off the cushions. He's coated in gold and silver, all his piercings gleaming like jewels, the lines of his body dipped in gold flake, and as he opens his eyes again they're bright and full of lust — so fucking beautiful Renjun wants to scream.

The press of Jaemin's cock against him is a surprise — aided in part by how cold his piercing still is. A heavy ring threaded through the head of his cock, one that drives Renjun absolutely wild whenever it's inside of him. One he likes to take in his mouth and suck at, run his tongue over, enjoying the moans he pulls from Jaemin's lungs.

Jaemin's fingers dig into his thighs, and he lifts his legs up, bending them at an angle that maybe would have been impossible for the Renjun of a few years ago. Lucky now that Renjun is bendy. Lucky now that he's loose limbed, and he wants this so badly. Chenle's grip on his thumb is tight, and Renjun turns his palm, threading their fingers together until they're holding hands — until it's Renjun that's gripping him tight as Jaemin pushes into him.

Renjun can't stop the whine that's ripped from him. He clenches down and twists his hips at the same time, the feeling of Jaemin's cock inside him so fucking good it makes him want to come again. It makes him want to give in — to fall back and let Jaemin prop him up, let Donghyuck and Chenle be the only things anchoring him to this world.

The drag of the piercing is exquisite — a blunt pressure that amplifies the feeling of the head of his dick inside of him, rubbing against his rim as Jaemin pulls all the way out then  _ slams _ back in, punching a moan out of Renjun.

He always fucks like this. Torturous yet possessive. Like there's something burning in him. Like he has something to prove — like he has to make up for all the years they've been apart. He picks up Renjun by the hips and lifts him up, pistoning into him, filling him up so good that Renjun just gives in, not even bothering to suppress the moans and gasps that fall from his lips.

It's okay. He has Donghyuck. Donghyuck who wraps a hand around Renjun's cock. Donghyuck who kisses him and muffles his biting whines. Who knows exactly how to take him apart when he's being fucked. Telling him he's beautiful, telling him he loves him. They all do. Chenle's palm is sweaty beneath his, and it all washes over Renjun — a tide of gold and brilliant light, sinking into it as he lets Jaemin lift him and fuck into him, until there's nothing but bliss and a roar in his ears.

He doesn't even notice Jaemin come. He just feels him pull out and rush of something warm on his thighs, trickling out of him as Jaemin lowers him to the ground, panting. He fingers press into him for a second, but they don't have time to dwell. Maybe later when they're tired, but not now when they're all ready to go. Chenle's hand slips from his, and Jaemin collapses beside him, his fingers sticky where they smear his cum against Renjun's chest.

"So beautiful," he murmurs. "Wish you could see what you look like."

Renjun just laughs, head so far in the clouds he feels like he's slipped into another world. There's hot lust pooling all over his body, and as he watches Jaemin slips his fingers into Donghyuck's mouth, feeding him the traces of his cum he'd scooped from Renjun's ass, laughing as Donghyuck winks at him.

Next is Jeno. Softer than Jaemin, less need to show off. Just an implicit understanding, a love that's always run deep. Polished stone and warm earth. The warmth of his skin, the taste of his lips as he bends over Renjun and kisses him, sliding into him with ease. Like they've had lifetimes together — the moon and the earth, two of them cut from the same cloth.

It’s like pure ecstasy. Jeno is _ hot _ , skin a blaze, dick spreading him open as he folds over Renjun. Renjun's hand slips down from his back to grasp at his bicep, and Jeno starts to fuck into him, soft pants falling from his lips as he moves with a slow grace. It’s all in his hips, the wave of his body, the way he pushes in and draws out, savouring each thrust. Renjun kisses Jeno with a greed, and it’s like there’s no-one else there. The world falls away, and it’s just the two of them. He digs his fingers into Jeno’s muscles, the sound of his hips snapping against him rhythmic.

Jeno's breath comes heavy, wet pants against Renjun's lips. His pace quickens and he moans, head falling forward, pressing his face into his shoulder, bracketing him with his forearms. He's so close. Renjun can feel it. He's so close.

"You're so good," Renjun says, running a hand through his hair. Someone else's fingers brush against his, and he hears Chenle's laugh — feels his hand slip between their sweat soaked stomachs, reaching to wrap around Renjun's aching cock. 

Renjun comes before Jeno — clenching around him, nails digging scores into his skin, arching up into Chenle's hand, a keen whine pulled from between his teeth. Jeno's thrusts turn desperate and a surge of heat shoots through Renjun, sparkling like lightning to tinder, setting the world on fire for a brilliant second. Jeno folds over him, panting, mouth pressed to his shoulder, but he doesn't have time to savour it. Chenle picks him up with a grunt and he slides out of Renjun, jelly limbed, skin flushed and glimmering with sweat.

"Up and at 'em," Chenle says, and Renjun laughs, the world spinning around him, even as he's being manhandled — picked up and pulled into Chenle's lap, peppered with kisses all over his face. Someone else's hands on his back, wrapping around to feel at his chest, and Chenle's arms around him to hold him against him.

"Chenle," Renjun says, and Chenle hushes him — presses a sticky finger to his lips, sparks dancing in his eyes. 

"I've got you," Chenle says. "Let's get you some water first, okay?"

Renjun nods, every part of him buzzing, tingling, cum splattered across his stomach smeared into his skin by the person who's pressed against his back — Jaemin, he realises, the flex of his abs and the hard points of his nipple piercings obvious. One of Chenle's hands slips down to tease at his hole — though it's less teasing and just more just him playing with the cum dribbling out of his ass, catching it before it falls to the floor and pressing his fingers into Renjun's mouth. Renjun licks it from his hand with the tiniest movements of his tongue, and Chenle looks proud — he looks beautiful.

"So good," Chenle says. "Look at you. Does Jeno taste good? Does Jaemin taste good?"

Renjun nods. It's wet and slightly oily from the lubricant they've been using, slightly perfumed in a way, though he thinks that might be Chenle's skin. He swallows greedily and shifts in Chenle's lap, leaning forward to kiss him, digging his fingers into the muscles of his ass, teasing at him in return.

_ He's _ not full of cum, but Renjun's done the same thing Chenle's doing to him now before to  _ him _ . Their roles have been reversed. He's pumped him full of his own load and fed it to him off his fingers — or gotten Jeno to eat him out and pass it to him.

Donghyuck comes back and he’s forced to separate from Chenle to drink what he offers. Cup pressed to his lips, water splattering all over his chin in his haste. It feels almost like nectar — a spark of life racing through him. Donghyuck refills the cup and hands it to Chenle, who almost spills half of it down his front — laughing, every part of him sparkling with mirth. 

“You okay?” Chenle asks. Renjun nods. He’s always okay. When he’s here with the people he loves — Jaemin’s sweat soaked skin pressed against his back, Chenle’s arms around him. He feels safe. He feels greedy almost — like sometimes he thinks it’s unreasonable — unfair. No-one should be allowed to be loved this much. 

“Of course,” he says. “Just…”

“Yeah?”

A tilt of the head. Fingers running up and down his spine, skittering touches. 

“It’s okay,” Renjun says. He buries his face in Chenle’s shoulder, but Chenle cradles his cheeks and brings him back up to meet his eyes.

“What is it?” he asks. Jaemin’s hands are between them, fingers fit between the groove of his ribs, and Renjun breathes out, long and deep, distracted for a second by Donghyuck kissing Jeno in his periphery.

“Seriously, Chenle. I just. I feel overwhelmed.”

“It’s alright,” Chenle murmurs. He presses a kiss to Renjun’s forehead and then leans their faces together, his features going blurry in the close proximity. “I’ve got you. We all do. Jaemin’s here. Donghyuck and Jeno are right beside you. It’s okay.”

“It’s not that,” Renjun says. He presses a gentle kiss to his lips, threading a hand through his hair, swiping some of the petals from between the soft strands and discarding them again. ”I just love you.”

Chenle nods. “I love you too.”

“Then fuck me,” Renjun says, and it's like all the tenderness is gone. A moment of selfishness consumed, and he surges forward, grip twisting, pulling at Chenle’s hair and pressing into him, sitting up so the head of his cock rests between his cheeks. “Fill me up and fuck me. C’mon Chenle.”

He doesn’t even need to use his hands. Chenle’s nails scratch at his back but it’s Jaemin who guides him into him — it’s Jaemin who smears more oil around his hole, and he’s still so loose from Jeno and Jaemin’s cocks that it’s not hard for Chenle to slip into him. 

A second of blunt pressure. One of Chenle’s hands lifts him up slightly, and then he’s sinking down onto him, gasping, hissing, biting down as he buries himself to the hilt. 

“Fuck. Oh fuck. God, Chenle.”

Eight years together, and Renjun still isn’t used to him. Not at this angle, when he can feel every inch of him pressing into him — when he can feel how fucking thick he is, spreading him open as he lifts Renjun up, his hips snapping up into him when he drops him down and fills him to the brim.

“ _ Yes _ ,” Renjun moans, and his voice is rough — wet. He needs this. So fucking badly. Jaemin’s hands on him, pressing at where he’s stretched around Chenle’s girth, withdrawing as Chenle’s hips push up into him in full, lengthy strokes, making sure Renjun feels every part of him.

“How’s that?” Chenle asks, voice low and husky against his ear. “Is that good, Renjun?”

“Please,” Renjun says. He already feels overloaded — the sensation almost too much to bear. It’s just Chenle inside of him. He hasn’t even come yet, and Renjun is already gritting his teeth. Digging his nails into his arms, moving with him as he thrusts up into him. He’s so much bigger than him — hands wrapped around his hips, fucking up into him.

“I’ll take that as a yes,” Chenle says, laughing. “You want me to go fast? Slow? You’re so greedy tonight, Renjun.”

“Just fuck me,” Renjun says, and he knows it’s not an answer, but he doesn’t care. He crashes against Chenle, grinding down against him, and the two of them fall backwards, Chenle almost slipping out of him before his hips press back up into him and he laughs — again. 

“Who knew wanting to be bred would make you like this, hmm?”

“Shut up,” Renjun says, and he braces himself against Chenle’s chest, digging the heel of his palm into one of his pierced nipples, rubbing against it until Chenle lets out a whimper, rolling his body so his cock shifts inside of him. “I am your prince, and I demand you fuck me Zhong Chenle.”

A spark of lust in his eyes. A hunger. Hands on his hips, and this time it's less playful. Chenle understands, and god does he listen. He fucks the words out of Renjun — until his curses have turned into moans, until he's whimpering, whining, Chenle's chest marked with crescents of red from how tight he clutches at him, his head thrown back and soft 'oh's falling from his beautiful spit slick lips.

"C'mon," Renjun says, and it's almost a gurgle. His cock is hard again, but he knows if he touches himself he'll come too early — there's so much of the night left, and everyone else deserves to have him too. "C'mon Chenle. C'mon. Come in me. Come on, baby. Come for your prince."

The noise Chenle makes is obscene. It's wet and broken, and he spills inside him, clawing at his hips, stuttering and gasping. Renjun collapses on top of him, panting, and someone's lips graze at his shoulders — someone's fingers press at him, catching the slew of cum that dribbles out as Chenle's cock slips out of him.

"Pretty."

It's Donghyuck. Of course. Patiently waiting his turn. Watching Renjun get fucked by everyone else before he can have him. The right of knowing him for the longer — that they've had so many nights together that he feels safe in waiting. He loves seeing Renjun like this anyway.

"Chenle always fucks you so good," Donghyuck murmurs, and his breath is hot against the shell of his ear. Chenle's hands rub at his back, and Renjun shivers — like somehow he's the one who'd just come. He's the one who's spent and weak. He's chest to chest with Chenle and his voice vibrates through him as he speaks.

"You wanna fuck him Hyuckie?"

Donghyuck's lips on his spine, kissing down each knob of bone. His breath hot against his skin, ghosts of desire echoing out. Renjun is caught between the two of them — and if he's to be honest, there's no place he'd rather be.

"Of course," Donghyuck murmurs. His fingers slip into him again and crook to press against his prostate, and Renjun's entire body jerks at the white hot bolt of pleasure that courses through him. "God, Renjun," Donghyuck continues. "You're so full. Are you seeing this, Jaemin? Jeno?"

"Our pretty prince," Jaemin calls out, and it feels like his voice is coming from space. Coming from heaven, pleasure trickling down Renjun's limbs, leaking out of every pore.

"Are you okay if I fuck him like this?" Donghyuck asks — though it's directed at Chenle.

"Mmmm," Chenle says. "Probably. You won't crush me, will you Renjun?"

Renjun lifts a hand in the air and waves it around, breathing deep in the sweaty sex soaked scent of Chenle's skin then nipping at his shoulder. It's as much of a yes as anything, and by now Chenle understands him. They've known each other longer enough to not need words anymore, though sometimes it's nice to use them for effect.

"Wish I could keep my cock in you," he says, lips pressed against Renjun's ear, "but Hyuckie wants you now."

"After," Renjun says, and it draws a hiss from Chenle, a kiss pressed to the side of his head.

"You're so kind to me."

"Because I love you."

"Says you."

"Did you all decide to conspire against me tonight?" Renjun asks, laughing, limbs weak as Donghyuck picks him up and props him up. "Donghyuck, what do you think?"

"I think you're delirious," Donghyuck says, though it's fond. "Jaemin, come here would you."

Another pair of hands on his hips — so many hands. So many bodies touching him. Donghyuck's cock slips in without resistance, only a wet trickle of cum, only a squelch as he bottoms out with a breathless gasp.

"What?" Renjun asks, an honest to good giggle bubbling up within him. Chenle cups his chin in a hand and turns his face to him, pressing a kiss to his lips.

"You just feel so fucking good," Donghyuck says.

"Glad I can provide a positive experience."

Jeno's fingers — or Donghyuck's, maybe, he's really not sure at this point — push into him and Renjun grunts, pushing back against them and relishing the stretch, if only for a brief second before they withdraw.

"Hold him up," Donghyuck says, just as he snakes his hands under him, one wrapping around his cock, the other pressing into his stomach. "Seriously," he says. "Holy fuck, Renjun."

"Do I have to tell you to shut up, too?" Renjun asks. The first part of the ritual is the most important part — where everything has to be strict. No cum wasted, everything in its order. One at a time — newest first, oldest last. After that it's a free for all, a backslide into oblivion, Renjun used and bred until he's a mess, until his limbs don't work and he's leaking cum everywhere, dripping in it. Until all he can identify is the hands on his body, the kisses pressed into his bruises, all the fingers and cocks that have been inside of him blurring into one.

"No," Donghyuck says. "You love it, don't you? You love it when we tell you how good you feel. How warm and wet you are. Our cum all over you, all filled up. Our pretty prince."

Renjun growls, squirming against whoever's holding him up, bucking into Donghyuck's hand and clenching down around his cock.

"Oh god, Renjun."

That's more like it. That's enough for Donghyuck to quicken his pace — for him to fucking  _ move _ . The tease is fun when it's Jaemin — when it's the first person, but by now Renjun just wants to be filled and fucked.

It's what he craves. Something primal, the heat that corkscrews all through him. The wet slap of Donghyuck's hips against his ass. Jeno lifts his face up and kisses him and Renjun moans into it, just as Donghyuck hooks his arm under him and uses his size advantage to lift him and absolutely  _ slam _ into him.

"Oh  _ fuck _ ," Renjun moans — or at least he tries to. The syllables are broken, garbled, Jeno biting at his bottom lip, everything exploding within him. He shouts, and he doesn't care who hears him. He doesn't care about anything expect for Donghyuck. The heat of his body, the searing point of his grip. His whining moan as he spills inside of him, grip tight on Renjun's cock, his muscles locking up and quivering as he lets out breathy gasp after gasp.

Renjun collapses as Donghyuck lets him down, starfishing against Chenle's chest, drawing a laugh from him.

"Our prince is tired," Jeno coos. His hand is in his hair and Chenle's hand on his back, resting gently against his sweat soaked skin. With his other hand he teases at him for a second, before Renjun is being picked up and moved again. Chenle asks Jaemin to grab some cushions and prop him up, and for once Jaemin doesn't give him lip. He acquiesces, throwing cushions across the room until Chenle is able to prop himself up.

Renjun doesn't even bother to move. Jeno picks him up and drops him into Chenle's lap, and it’s like a lap of luxury — to have everyone do everything for him without even a word. Chenle slips his cock inside of him and Renjun hooks his arms around Chenle's shoulders — loose, lazy, his body sweaty and spent.

"You're doing so well," Chenle says. "Let's take a break, okay?"

Renjun nods, though he doesn't really want it. He wants to be fucked. He  _ needs _ to be fucked. He's so fucking insatiable he feels like he's about to explode, like he's about to turn to dust. The music over the lake is loud and bright and the room spins around him, candle flames flickering and burning.

"Is there anything you need?" Jaemin asks. Silence, for a second. Donghyuck panting, the wet sound of Chenle kissing Renjun's cheek.

"Just bring water," Chenle says, murmuring against his skin. "Maybe some salve?"

"Afterwards," Renjun interrupts. There's no point putting any salve on his bruises or cuts — more will be made on all of them. Renjun’s a biter, and Chenle is too — though Renjun likes it more when he uses his teeth on someone else. On Donghyuck or Jeno, marking them up like a puppy with a new toy. “Get me some food, will you?”

“So demanding,” Jaemin says, though he chuckles, prodding at Jeno’s shoulder and getting him to follow him. Renjun lets his eyes fall closed and slumps against Chenle, trying not to shift too much as to not be aware of the fact that his cock is very much inside of him.

Chenle rubs soothing circles against his back, his touch firm but gentle, fingers massaging his aching muscles. “You good?” he asks, and Renjun hums. 

“Fine.”

“Okay for another round?”

Renjun nods, leaning all his body weight on him, groaning at the slide of his cock inside of him. “Yeah. God, Chenle.”

“It’s fine,” Chenle says. “We’ll take care of you, okay? Just let us know?”

“Of course,” Renjun murmurs. He’s still hard — he still wants so desperately to just fuck himself on Chenle, but he knows Chenle won’t let him. Not at least until he’s had some water and food.

From his position with his chin resting on Chenle’s shoulder he can see the mess they’ve made of the rest of the room. There’s wet spots all over the white rugs, cushions thrown haphazardly all over the room. All their clothes are strewn everywhere like banners on a festival day, and on the table someone’s cup has been knocked over, liquid he hopes is water spilled across the wood. Across the room Jeno refills the censer, sniffing his handful of sticks before lighting them and putting the lid back on top of the incense burner. The night is marching on and the moon is out of view — though he can see how it paints the edge of the lake in deep silver, he can see the stars bursting out across the ink dark night sky. A flock of birds flies past, chattering and singing, and Renjun shuts his eyes again, letting the sound of Donghyuck and Chenle’s conversation lull him into a state of peace. 

“How is he?” Donghyuck asks. He places a hand on Renjun’s hip, body warm against his bare back as he leans in and presses a disgustingly wet kiss to Chenle’s lips.

“Tired, I think.”

“Not tired,” Renjun says. “I want to be fucked.”

Donghyuck chuckles, fingers skittering down his sides. "Do you now?"

Something sparks in his gut and he clenches down around Chenle's cock, rocking back and forth before Chenle's hands come up to steady his hips.

"Easy," Chenle says. "Water first. Then you can have us. Me and Donghyuck at the same time. How does that sound?"

The casualness in his voice makes Renjun want to break down — it makes him want to beg for him.

"Please.”

Donghyuck presses a kiss to his shoulder — another at the junction of his neck. Gentle, like soft raindrops breaking across his skin, hovering over a bruise someone (Jaemin, maybe) had sucked into the soft skin under his jaw. “Don’t worry,” he says, and his fingers slide down the cleft of his ass, pressing at his rim, applying a blunt pressure before they slip in alongside Chenle’s cock. Renjun lets out a hiss and clenches, and Donghyuck rubs at his back, letting out soft sounds of encouragement.

“You’re so good,” Chenle murmurs, arms tightening around him, hips twitching slightly, like he has a phantom desire to fuck into him. “You’ll take us so well, Renjun. You always do.” 

“I know,” he says, and it comes with another kiss on the side of his face, Chenle’s lips so soft he wants to sob. “God, I want you so fucking badly.”

“We’ll get there.”

His arms are working better this time, and though it’s an effort to tip his head upright he’s able to take the cup offered by Jaemin and drink for himself — slower now, less hungry. The fire burning inside of him is under control — or maybe Renjun is used to it — and it won’t consume him. Donghyuck’s fingers fuck into him with a leisurely pace, and the longer they’re inside of him the more he feels Chenle begin to shift. His heartbeat thuds against Renjun’s chest, and Renjun feels a heat swell inside of him — aided in turn by the way Jeno feeds him sticky rice from his fingertips, by the way he lets Renjun lick the oils from his skin, every last vestige taken into his mouth until there’s nothing left. Until Jeno lies down at Chenle’s side and captures Renjun’s lips, kissing him so gently Renjun thinks he’s about to sob.

It’s not what he needs, but it’s what he gets. Someone — Jaemin — pushes a finger in alongside Donghyuck’s and Renjun whines, twitching, the movement of Chenle’s hips this time very much obvious. It’s warm pressed between all their bodies, but warm isn’t enough. Renjun needs to  _ feel _ it. It’s like staring at a picture of the sun — he wants the real thing. 

He can’t say that, of course. Jeno’s tongue is in his mouth and Chenle is nibbling at his ear, the ball of his tongue piercing swiping back and forth against his lobe. Donghyuck presses another finger into him and Renjun thinks he might just shatter. He moans into Jeno’s mouth, everyone hushes him. Tells him he’s good. He’s so good. He’s already taken so much of their cum. It’s okay, they’ll take care of him.

Isn’t this what it’s all about? It’s about how much they love him. About how much he loves him. About being filled to the brim with every part of them — dripping in their cum. Their mouths on his skin, their fingers tattooing their names into him like a signature. You are mine — I am yours. 

Renjun bows his head forward and  _ moans _ , lifting his hips and sitting back down, fucking himself on every part of everyone that’s inside him. Jeno breaks for air and he takes the time to beg, no longer caring about any appearance except for the very real reality that he absolutely needs to be fucked right now. He can’t sit on Chenle’s cock any longer. He can’t have their fingers in him — their mouths on him, his entire body strung out — for any more time before he goes insane.

“Please,” he gasps, hips shifting, Chenle’s cock  _ dragging _ inside of him. “Please fuck me. Please. Donghyuck.  _ Please _ .”

“It’s okay,” Donghyuck says, and his fingers slip out of him. Another kiss to his back, another touch. “It’s okay Renjun. We’ll do it, okay?”

The head of Donghyuck’s cock pushes against him, and Renjun moans, nails digging into Chenle’s back, fighting back the uncontrollable urge to  _ bite _ him.

He loses. He sinks his teeth into Chenle’s shoulder and Chenle’s hips snap up, in tandem with the moment Donghyuck gets his cock inside of him. The head  _ pops _ in, and so does most of Donghyuck’s length, a sudden feeling of being fit to burst — of being split in two. Renjun whines, no longer able to hold back — biting at Chenle and writhing against him. 

“Please,” he sobs. “Please. Oh god, please. Holy fuck.” 

He doesn’t know how to speak, or really how to even formulate a proper sentence. The noises that come out of his mouth are broken and shattered and he desperately tries to fuck himself on their cocks, tries to sink down and feel the full extent of having two people inside him. 

Chenle’s grip tightens at his hips and he moves. He moves, his cock sliding against Donghyuck’s, fucking him in deep strokes, each slide nearly overwhelming. They’ve fucked him like this so many times — the two of them: Donghyuck holding him up, hand wrapped around his cock while Chenle is below him — but he’ll never be used to it.

It’s impossible to describe. A feeling of being stuffed from the inside out, these two bodies warm against him. The voice in the back of his head that screams about how much he loves these people — about how he wants to be destroyed by them. His fingers claw at Chenle’s back and he pleads for them to fuck him, a steady chorus match by every thrust of Chenle’s hips.

Donghyuck comes first. Spilling inside of him, dripping everywhere. A whining grunt, nails a sharp point on his chest, cursing and gasping as he pulls out. Chenle takes the opportunity to practically lift him up and piston into him, and Renjun lets him — he pants against his mouth, barely able to kiss him, all his breath put into the noises torn from his lungs.

He’s dripping absolutely everywhere. He’s well aware of it. The sheer noise of him being fucked is obscene and wet, and it’s like the sound of it spurs him on. His orgasm blindsides him — it’s almost wrenched from him. Sobbing, weeping, collapsing against Chenle and splattering the tiniest amount of cum against his stomach.

“More,” he says. Everything is searing and bright. Chenle’s cock slips out of him — wet, sticky cum spilling everywhere. “More, more. Please more. Fuck me. Jaemin. Jeno. Fuck me please.”

Someone’s arms wrap around his waist and he’s being picked up. He’s being dropped in Jeno’s lap and Jeno kisses him — once — before pushing his cock inside of him. “Is that okay?” he asks, but Renjun knows the answer.

“ _ More _ .”

Jaemin, too. He’s panting, rasping, almost feral as he pushes into Renjun, moaning about how fucking good he feels. In the corner of his eye he can see Chenle hasn’t moved — he’s just splayed across the cushions, chest heaving, his pubic hair matted with cum, eyes staring at the ceiling — but it’s only for a second Renjun can look at him. Jaemin  _ moves _ . He presses all the way in, then draws out, aided in part by the sheer amount of cum leaking from Renjun, hot and wet, every stroke drawing a squelch from him.

“Yes,” Renjun says, and he screws his eyes shut. He falls into the rhythm of it — chanting almost: “Fuck me, fuck me. Fuck me.”

It’s not enough. It’s never enough. The haze of the tea is heavy and high and every time someone comes in him there’s someone to replace them — and when there isn’t they’re beside him. They’re spilling on his back, on his face. Renjun licks it from their fingers and when Jeno comes it’s Chenle’s mouth on him, licking the cum from his ass even as Jeno is still thrusting, weak, pushing whatever is inside of him out so Chenle can drink it in. 

“Do you want this?” Donghyuck asks, and Renjun is splayed against Jeno, breathing like he’s just surfaced from being underwater, lungs aching, all his muscles on fire. 

“Please,” Renjun says, weak, drawn out, so fucking spent. Chenle kisses him and pushes the slew of cum into his mouth and Renjun moans, sucking at his tongue piercing, trying to lick every last drop from him. 

“Do we taste good?” Chenle asks, voice a croak. “Does our prince like that?”

“I love you,” Renjun gasps, and Chenle laughs.

“I love you, too.”

“You taste so fucking good.”   
  


The salty tang, the heavy smell of sweat. The insides of his cheeks are covered in a sheen of cum, and his cock is drooling against his stomach, though he’s sure he’s just shooting blanks at this point. His balls are fucking  _ empty _ — he’s been milked dry.

“You look a bit delirious,” he says, frowning slightly. “Maybe it’s time to stop.”

“Chenle,” Renjun says. It’s not time to stop. It’s not, he swears. His eyes droop and he’s splattered in cum, but he doesn’t want to stop. “More.”

“Donghyuck?” Chenle says, and he realises he might be right. Chenle deferring to Donghyuck means he’s serious — his seniority overrides them all. 

Donghyuck’s hand cups his jaw and he finds his face tilted up — thumb wiping a single tear from his cheek, Donghyuck sucking it back into his mouth and working at a dried drop of cum on the corner of his mouth.

“Renjun, I think Chenle’s right. You’re barely here.”

He whines. He thinks of exercising his authority — ordering them by royal decree to fuck him, but he realises they might be right. His head is spinning and he’s so tired — he doesn’t want to fall asleep with someone’s cock in him. 

“Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay.”

It’s not their job to clean up. It is their job to take care of Renjun. Donghyuck’s arms around his waist, picking him up and swinging him around, looping one arm under his knees and the other under his shoulders, his limbs like jelly as he’s carried to the dais and lowered onto the bed. 

“You look so beautiful,” Donghyuck says, and there’s something sparkling in his eyes — not lust but an adoration. The way he looks at Renjun like he’s a piece of art — like this life might not be enough for the two of them. He always has. From the day they met ‘til the day they die. He’s as sure of it as he is that the sun will rise again. 

There’s no need for covers. Five bodies in a bed is enough heat to keep Renjun warm, and as Donghyuck crawls onto the mattress beside him he sighs, lifting a hand to rest it on his cheek. 

“I love you,” Renjun says, and his voice comes as a croak. There’s noises in the rest of the room — speech that filters through muffled, the sound of things being moved. Jeno’s beautiful laugh, tinkling like bells. Donghyuck’s skin is soft, slightly sticky with sweat, and his eyes are dark as midnight obsidian. 

“I know you do.”

A tug on the red string tied to the both of them. Wrapped around Renjun’s heart. The lights in the room begin to go out, candles blown out with gusts of air that leave Chenle giggling — a clatter of candlesticks, Jeno bumping into something and then outing a surprised noise. 

“Donghyuck…” he starts, but he has no real finish to it. He just clutches to him and lets Donghyuck hold him in his arms, rests his head on his chest and listens to the steady thud of his heartbeat. 

Someone cleans him up. Someone else, still blowing the candles out — Jeno, mumbling to himself. A single light left in the room, soft orange glow cast over all of them. Sunset light, the last flash of flame before it’s snuffed out. Set on the bedside and left to burn. Renjun shuts his eyes and takes a breath, tangled up in the limbs of everyone he loves. Exhausted and spent, but happier than he could ever hope to be. 

How lucky he is to have so many people who love him. 

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


He wakes with a low ache in his bones. With the pale dawn light filtering through the shutters, through the limp veil hanging over the door to the lake. He doesn’t move — not for some time, not until he’s aware that someone else is awake. 

“Good morning,” he murmurs, and he’s surprised when it’s Donghyuck who answers.

“Good morning. Sleep well?”

“I think so. I didn’t dream.”

“A good omen, then.”

Donghyuck had trained to be a priest once — a ritual overseer, dedicated only in holy pursuit. Something abandoned the second they’d met. It was obvious in a way — the two of them magnetic. Renjun thinks he couldn’t have resisted if he’d tried. 

“I should hope so.”

Donghyuck hums, the noise amplified in the cage of his ribs, vibrating through his skin. “Do you want to go to the springs?”

Renjun already knows he’s going to be sore all over — that he’ll be hobbling for the next few days.

“Yeah,” he says with a sigh. He drums on Donghyuck’s chest, pressing a kiss to his skin. 

“Should we wake the others then?”

“They’ll know where we are.”

He extracts himself from the tangle of limbs, Jaemin’s hand sliding off his hip, Chenle’s warmth leaving his back. His thighs quiver and Donghyuck helps him shrug on his robe, belting it around his waist and tracing the curve of his cheek with a finger. 

“You’re glowing,” he murmurs, leaning in to press a soft kiss to his lips. “God, you’re beautiful.”

“Bet you say that to everyone who lets you come in their ass.”

Donghyuck laughs, a soft puff of air, his eyes twinkling. “And only you ever look this good.”

  
  
  


*

  
  
  


The palace halls are quiet. The dawn is silvered and soft, and a mist hangs low over the lake, sunlight breaking through like strokes of gold painted by an artist’s brush. They only run into a single worker in the halls — a maid who asks if they need a clean up in the ritual chamber, to which Renjun answers with a shake of his head. 

“The rest are still asleep. Perhaps later.”

“Of course,” he says, and he bows and takes his leave. 

Polished stone turns to wood, to stepping stones, to the hot steam of the springs curling around them. The surface smokes like a woodfire, and Renjun drops his robe on the edge, slipping in without a worry, the hot water instantly soothing the ache and burn of the cuts and scrapes on his skin. Donghyuck joins him, and he leans against Renjun — head on his shoulder, hand in his hair, curling it around his fingers and sighing. 

They don't speak. There’s no need to. The hot springs are at the mountain’s top, and below them half the palace spreads out — the staircases clinging to the waterfall’s edge, all the shades of seafoam and red painting on the edges of the roof, gold statues that curl around the columns, sunlight glinting on their edges as the world comes to life. As the dawn unfolds, water bubbling around them. 

A toe in the water — another body sliding in beside them.

“How did I know you’d be here?”

Three bodies. It’s all of them, though it’s Chenle who speaks. There’s a vicious red bruise on the shape of Renjun’s teeth on his shoulder, and as he watches he dips it under the water, groaning as he sinks up to his chin. 

“Where else would I go?”

“Stay with us, maybe?” Chenle offers. Renjun laughs.

“You’ll follow me wherever I go.”

“And you abuse your power so much.”

Renjun shrugs, water splashing around as he does so. Donghyuck makes a sleepy noise, grip tightening around his side for a second, then relaxing. He looks at them all — watches Jeno cup a handful of water and pour it over Jaemin’s head, causing Jaemin to splash him in return — returns his eyes to Chenle and squeezes Donghyuck’s hand, smiling. 

“Abuse of power would be if I told you to go jump in the lake right now.”

“Like I wouldn’t enjoy it.”

“You’re a freak, Chenle.” 

“Says you.”

They hold each other’s gaze — both of them grinning, Chenle with his catlike fangs, his eyes reflecting the sunrise — before he bursts into laughter and leans in for a kiss that turns deep, Chenle tasting like sweet nectar. 

“Did you sneak off to the kitchen?” Renjun asks.

“Jeno was hungry,” Chenle says, like it’s an excuse. Like Chenle and Jaemin probably hadn’t goaded him into taking the blame for their own rumbling stomachs.

“Can you two shut up?” Donghyuck says, and that’s cause enough for another laugh. For Renjun to splash water on Donghyuck, but listen all the same. He’s happy. He’s so fucking happy. He’s sore and spent and he’s surrounded by the people he loves, and nothing could ever be sweeter.

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> who said i'd never write a gangbang again ? hahaha whoops.


End file.
